Not Sentimental
by miley-avril
Summary: Snow and Emma have an insightful conversation. Emma/Snow fluff for the first chapter. Second and third focus on Emma/James. Subsequent ones set to shine the light on the whole Charming Family. Rated T for minor language.
1. Chapter 1

**SO THIS HAS BEEN KICKING AROUND IN MY HEAD FOR SUCH A LONG TIME, AND I'M GLAD I FINALLY GOT TO WRITE IT. I'VE BEEN REALLY INTO ONE-SHOTS LATELY, SO AS I'M WRITING THIS A/N I SEE IT AS BEING A ONE-SHOT. AS YOU KNOW, EVERYTHING WITH ME IS SUBJECT TO CHANGE ****. THIS TAKES PLACE ABOUT A MONTH AFTER SNOW AND EMMA GET BACK TO STORYBROOKE.**

**DON'T OWN ONCE UPON A TIME.**

Snow looks at her daughter with a small smirk. Feeling the weight of her gaze, Emma looks up from Henry's book.

"What?"

"You." The brunette answers, turning her attention back to her hot chocolate.

"What about me?" If this conversation had been with Mary Margaret, things would have been fine and not too alarming. But the woman sitting across from her is her mother. She does her best to keep the edge out of her voice.

"Just… _you_. Remember how you told me about Neal?"

"Um… yeah." Emma is regretting telling Snow about that.

"Well, I was just thinking back to one of our first real conversations." She starts with a laugh. "And you told me you weren't sentimental. And now realizing what your car and the baby blanket –and the keychain you turned into a necklace—mean, and it's like just wow. You, Emma Swan, care a lot more than you let on. And you're adorable for it."

"Adorable?" No one's ever called her that before.

"I'm sorry, but the way you slouch, hot chocolate in hand, staring at Henry or the TV or whatever, it's just so cute. You're so much like me and your father." She reaches across the table and takes Emma's hand in hers.

"How so? David –er, James– isn't exactly what I'd call _cute_. And you're not that warm and fuzzy anymore." The blonde gets up and pulls a hot chocolate packet out of the cabinet, then pours it into a mug. She briefly considers putting new water in the microwave to prolong the break from their conversation, then decides against it. Snow –after who knows how many weeks stuck in fairytale land, she finally got the name right– wouldn't put up with those old tricks. Emma sighs and dumps the rest of the teakettle Snow used into her mug. She squirts a generous amount of whipped cream on top, followed by a heap of cinnamon. This is going to be a rough conversation. She leans her back against the counter. Snow smiles a little. Emma may have put space between them, but she's not running away.

"Your fath– _James_ can be adorable."

"Dear God, please don't go there." Emma makes a face.

"Oh I didn't mean that way! I mean, yes, but… He does _such_ sweet things. On Valentine's Day, at least back home," Snow's eyes glaze over as she remembers the bittersweet memory, "he'd bring me breakfast in bed. The strawberries outlined the letters in a heart shape. Our initials were inside it. That's just one of many things…" She snaps out of the reverie. "But anyway, yes. He's the most amazing man I've ever met."

"I just can't get over the David persona, but I know he's okay. I believe he won't hurt you again. Not that I'd need to intervene." The blonde smiles, then licks a bunch of whipped cream.

"Emma, you're going to spill it."

"I'm not thr–" She realizes stating the fact that she's not a child will hurt her companion, so she says instead, "I thought you'd rather this than licking it off my finger."

"Would it kill you to use a spoon?" Snow suggests with a small chuckle.

"Fine." Emma sticks out her tongue, and for a moment it feels like she's with Mary Margaret, not Snow White. She opens a drawer and pulls out a spoon. Then she takes a pointed bite of the whipped cream. "Happy?" She says sarcastically, with a roll of her eyes.

"Yes." Snow matches her tone and expression, minus the eye rolling. And just like that Emma's thrust back into reality, with her mother again because Mary Margaret wouldn't be like that to her. She wouldn't have that edge. Emma looks down into her mug, staring intently at the swirls of dark brown against the light brown. "What is it?" The brunette asks, her voice laced with concern.

"Nothing. I'm fine." Emma looks up at her mother with her face emotionless, looking her in the eyes, hoping she won't spot her lie. She doesn't want to hurt her more than she already is.

"Emma, when I said you're like Charming and I, I meant it. I know that look because you got it from me." Snow says gently. "And you're not the only one who can spot a lie when she sees it."

"I–" Now she feels like a child. "I'm just, I'm still having a hard time adjusting." Snow studies her daughter's face.

"But that's not all of it, is it?" She's almost afraid of the answer.

"No." Emma whispers, unwanted tears springing to her eyes. She looks down at her hands and chokes out, "I miss my best friend."

"Oh, Emma." Snow sighs, her chair scraping as she gets up to embrace her daughter. "I will _always_ be your best friend."

"But you're my mother." The blonde says, her voice catching on every word.

"That's true. But how much has our relationship _really_ changed? Mary Margaret mothered you. She gave you advice. You talked about things –deep things– with her. The only aspect that is different is the fact that _I_ get to protect _you_." Snow smirks, hoping to draw even a smile out of Emma. The blonde looks up, her lips twitching just a bit.

"It _is_ kinda nice not having to constantly make sure you're okay. You know, not getting charged with murder or your heart breaking or whatever other problems there were. You're a badass, did you know that? And I like it." A grin breaks across Emma's face as she pulls the smaller woman into a hug. "Even if David was a complete idiot… James isn't and… I'm proud to be your daughter. Both of you."

"And we're proud –so immensely proud– that you're our daughter. There are literally no words to describe it." Snow responds.

"Okay." Emma pulls back. "This is _way_ too mushy and all that crap. I'm drinking my hot chocolate and going on my afternoon patrol."

"See, but you _are_ sentimental." Snow teases, earning her another eye roll from the blonde.

"I am not." Emma scoffs.

"Blanket, car, necklace, and Graham's jacket." The brunette ticks each item off on a finger.

"Fine, fine, point taken. I have a few items from people I never thought I'd see again. Two of them I won't. That does not mean I keep everything I've ever come across."

"Emma, I understand. You don't have to be so defensive." Snow chuckles. "When you said that, you were trying to keep me away."

"And now I want to let you in." The blonde whispers to herself, though Snow caught it. She hides a smile and Emma puts down her mug. Snow hands her her blue leather jacket.

"Your red one's being stitched by Granny. It should be ready by tomorrow."

"Thanks." Emma smiles. "I'll be back in an hour or so. When are Henry and James getting home from the stable?"

"Probably around the same time as you. Charming said he'll take you some time, when you're ready. If you want to, of course."

"Tell him I'd like that."

"You could tell him yourself." Snow says, and this stops Emma on the threshold.

"I'm not ready for that." She replies sadly. "If he asks, it's different."

"I'll make sure he does." Snow smiles and gives her daughter's hand one last squeeze. "Be safe, okay?"

"I will." With that, Emma closes the door behind her.


	2. Chapter 2

**SORRY IT'S TAKEN ME SO LONG TO GET THIS UP. I CAN'T THANK YOU GUYS ENOUGH FOR YOUR SUPPORT! THIS CHAPTER TAKES PLACE A WEEK AFTER THE LAST ONE.**

**I DO NOT OWN ONCE UPON A TIME. PLEASE TELL ME WHEN THAT CHANGES. n**

Emma stumbles through the door, grocery bags in hand. She drops them onto the kitchen floor. She winces.

"You okay?" Snow looks over from the couch, an amused smile plastered on her face.

"Well, uh…" The blonde shifts from foot to foot, jamming her hands inside her pockets. "The eggs were in there."

"I'm sure not all of them are broken. We only need two." Snow calmly walks over to the bags, laughing. She pulls out the carton and smiles. "See? You only broke five."

"Lucky. I think I remembered everything else –the baking powder, vanilla, _eggs_, flour, sugar… yeah, I think that was it… I hope."

"It was."

"Hey guys!" Henry throws the door open, smiling broadly. "What are you making?" He examines the contents of the bags.

"Your Grandma is making a cake for James. It's his birthday today."

"Speaking of the Birthday Boy, here he is!" Snow rushes over to place a big kiss on his lips before embracing him. "You two got up so early I didn't get to see you this morning. Happy Birthday, Charming."

"Ew, guys, I'm here." Henry buries his face in his mother's stomach.

"Yeah, seriously." Emma agrees, the boy's hair. "What kind is it anyway?"

"The cake? Vanilla, his favorite." Snow replies, leaning into her husband's embrace. "With chocolate frosting."

"That's my favorite, too." Emma looks deep in thought, so Snow and James let her be. She snaps out of her reverie. "Did your horse let you ride yet?"

"Nope." Henry pouts.

"I'm sure it'll let you soon." The blonde assures him. "Why don't you wash your hands and have a poptart."

"I already ate breakfast."

"No, I mean for a snack." Emma rolls her eyes. With a goofy grin, Henry takes off for the bathroom. "The poor kid was sugar deprived…" She then looks between her parents and grows uncomfortable. The whole 'family thing' is still hard. "I'll um, I'll just give you two a couple minutes." She disappears up into the loft.

"Hey, Charming," Snow guides him to the couch, "I was talking to Emma last week and you should ask her to go riding with you. Just you."

"But… oh." James forces the David persona away.

"She's too proud to ask, and she's scared. She's not really into initiating bonding time. You know, cause she's still adjusting. But if you ask, she feels less like she's putting herself out there to get hurt." The brunette explains.

"Should I ask her today?"

"She's your daughter, too." Snow smiles encouragingly. "You've known her for a month. I have a cake to bake." With that, Snow heads to the kitchen. Emma then jogs down the stairs, sporting a hoodie and boots that take less than ten minutes to put on.

"Hey, Emma." He smiles, desperately wanting to drop the 'a'.

"Yeah?" Finally the blonde can address him without suspicion.

"I was wondering if you'd want to come riding with me. Maybe today?" Now it's James' turn to shift his weight.

"Wait, wait, wait! That's not fair!" Henry looks shocked as he finishes drying his hands on his jeans. "You're going to let her ride _now_. You won't even let me."

"Henry, she'll be on mine. Whitey already trusts me."

"_Whitey_? Seriously?" Emma raises an eyebrow.

"I thought Snow or White would be just a little too creepy." He throws a glance towards his wife, who snorts.

"Just a little, though I'm flattered."

"So, what do you say?"

"Sure, I guess. Only cause it's your birthday." Inwardly, though, Emma's heart and stomach are fluttering. She's been waiting for him to ask since her chat with Snow. Of course, she can't let anyone know that.

"Great. Are you, are you ready now?" He feigns shock to make it believable that he had simply asked out of the blue. From the kitchen, Snow stifles her giggles, watching her husband and daughter acting to try to convince the other of something when in reality, they both know exactly what's going on, and what the other is doing.

"Yup." Emma smiles a little. "Crappy sweatshirt and sweatpants and the boots I reserve only for getting dirty."

"Gramps, can I ride Whitey tomorrow?"

"He's too big, Henry. Your mom will kill me if you get hurt. I promise as soon as–"

"I know." The boy sighs, returning his attention to his poptart. Emma knows she should say something about his attitude, but doesn't have the heart to break this semi–normal family moment.

"We should probably get going." She says instead, but shoots Henry a warning look. He sinks down into his chair further. "And after you're done your homework, you should help Snow make dinner."

"Grandma, do I _really_ have homework?" He whines.

"What makes you think you're any different than all the other kids?" Snow replies. _Way to go!_, Emma thinks. She's still getting used to Snow White's persona, but she likes her better now.

"Be good, Henry. I mean it." The blonde follows her father to his truck.

* * *

"I'm glad you decided to come." James says casually as he turns the radio station to one that isn't the oldies.

"Yeah." _Be open, trust him, he isn't going to hurt me_. "It'll be fun. Happy birthday, by the way."

"Thanks." He flashes her such a wide, joyous smile that she can't help but reciprocate it. _Did he really just get that happy cause I'm being nice_? "Emma, I–" He cuts himself off, not sure if he should go as deep as he wants. In his peripheral, he sees his daughter stiffen. "I wanted to teach you so much." She resists the urge to interrupt, to say that Snow had already had this conversation with her. "I wanted to teach you how to wield a sword, but I guess you don't really need any help with that. Your mom already demonstrated arrows. So I get stuck with horses. Not that it's a bad thing. I love horses. Sorry, I'm rambling and digressing and… My point is is that I want to get to know you. You and Snow are pretty close. Your flaws, your mistakes… I don't care about them. They're what makes you, you. I want to know you; _all of you_." James pulls into a parking spot, the dust settling around them from the dirt road.

"I um…" Emma opens and closes her mouth a couple of times, trying to come up with something to say.

"Sorry, that was probably too deep and you're not ready for it." James hides a frown as he exits the vehicle. Emma chases after him.

"No, James! It's not that, it's just… please wait." She stops in front of the stable door, her voice softening as the last two words leave her mouth. James walks out and moves in front of her, arm's length away. "I know I'm screwing up your birthday, and I'm really trying here." Emma dips her head, her hair creating a curtain, masking her face as she fights tears. James wants nothing more than to embrace his baby girl, but understands that she's much like Snow. With a shaky breath, she continues, occasionally looking up to meet his gaze. "I _want_ you to be in my life. And don't take it personally, _please_. I don't let anyone in. Until I met Graham, I hadn't had an actual relationship, I hadn't actually loved someone, for 10 years."

"Since Henry's father." James nods in understanding.

"I'm trying to let you in cause I've wanted my dad my whole life. Don't give up on me." She whispers, finally giving in to the tears and allowing her father to hold her as she fell apart for the first time in her entire 28 years.

"I will _never_ give up on you Emma. Ever." The hug is short lived, however, when a horse whinnies, ruining the moment.

"God…" The blonde laughs self–consciously, pulling back and swiping at her eyes. "Let's ride the horse."

**SO I MEANT FOR THIS TO BE A TWO–SHOT, BUT OBVIOUSLY IT'S GOING TO BE LONGER. THANK YOU ALL FOR THE REVIEWS AND FAVORITES/FOLLOWS/ETC.**


	3. Chapter 3

**THANK YOU ALL **_**SO**_** MUCH FOR YOUR SUPPORT. YOU'RE AMAZING. SORRY IT'S TAKEN ME SO LONG TO UPDATE. I DID A LITTLE RESEARCH ABOUT HORSES/RIDING, BUT I DON'T KNOW HOW ACCURATE THIS WILL BE. SO, PLEASE EXCUSE ANY MISTAKES AND DON'T LET THEM INTERFERE WITH YOUR READING TOO MUCH. **

**DON'T OWN ONCE UPON A TIME.**

James leads Emma into the stable, walking along the line of stalls, all of them containing horses of different colors.

"Wow." The blonde breathes. "Are all of these yours?"

"Most of them. The four along here," he gestures to the wall on their right, "are your mom's. Snow loves horses almost as much as she loves her family –friends and all. When we got married, she forced me to ride them all so we'd be acquainted."

"Do you know their names?"

"Of course. This one here's Fox." He pats a cherry wood–colored horse. "You can't see it from here, but she has white legs and some white spots on her back. There are only a few horses with the same coloring in the realm –er, world."

"So she's a show horse." Emma guesses.

"Exactly. Occasionally Snow would ride her if it was just around the castle. But she wouldn't let anyone else on. She bought her a month after we were married. Actually, I came home one day and Fox was just standing in a stall."

"She didn't even _ask_ you or put the idea out!?" The blonde laughs. James smiles at seeing his daughter so happy.

"Nope. Come to think of it, your mother did that a lot… But anyway, this one's Charms." Next to Fox was a gray dappled horse, who was a little smaller.

"She named him after you?"

"Yes. He's not very big or fast, but he's quite agile. I knew she had wanted another horse, but before we could decide I had to go away on an emergency raid. I was gone for all of three days and she bought him."

"She didn't go with you?" From her time in the Enchanted Forest with Snow, Emma has come to the conclusion that Snow wasn't the sit-around-and-wait-for-the-men-to-get-things-done type of queen.

"At the time, there was a crisis in the part of the kingdom near the castle. A big protest. She's a little better with moderating people than me, they like her better, so…" James doesn't feel the need to continue.

"Eh, you're not so bad." Emma smiles. "What about this one?" She points to a black mare with a white streak on his nose.

"Ah, that would be Maverick. He's a beauty." James admires the horse. "Snow was having a particularly bad day –something about a serial killer on the loose and murmurs of Regina going after innocent people– and she was furious. She doesn't often get that angry, but when she does she's impulsive. She went out in search of the biggest, most powerful mare she could find. Obviously she did. I spent the whole night searching for her."

"So what happened?"

"She had ridden him all night, to the far reaches of our kingdom."

"Did you find her?"

"Of course I did. I will always find her." James cries indignantly. "And when we finally got home at noon the next day, I found my first gray hair." At this, Emma laughs again. "And then this one here is Lucy. Snow's had her since she was a little girl. Lucy's getting old, now."

"Aw." Now Emma frowns.

"But she's hanging on. Lucy won't let anyone else ride her." He rubs the horse's nose.

"She's beautiful." Emma takes in the all-white horse that is perfectly groomed.

"When your mom has free time, she braids her hair and puts bows in it. She says it calms her. At least, she used to. She did that quite a lot when she was pregnant with you. She said that the bond between a horse and its owner, when started early when the owner was a child, was something she wanted you to experience. Which brings me to this one." James steps out of the way so that Emma can see perhaps the most beautiful horse in the world. She has a chestnut base coat with streaks of gold and red that catch the sun perfectly. Her black mane sharply contrasts her white belly.

"Oh my God. That's the prettiest horse I've ever seen."

"She's yours. When the curse struck, she was about two weeks old. Snow and I intended to teach you to ride as soon as you could sit up by yourself." James explains. At her silence and unreadable expression, he continues. "I mean, obviously we'd be on it with you."

"Where's her parents?" Emma asks quietly after a moment, gently stroking the tiny horse.

"Snow…" He sighs, trying to figure out how to say this. "She found her alone in the forest nearly frozen to death. We think that maybe her parents wandered off in search of food and were captured–"

"Or she was abandoned."

"Or that, yes."

"Did she come with a name?" Emma closes her eyes against the familiar pain rising up in her chest.

"No. We were still deciding when, you know…"

"I guess she needs a name, then." The blonde smiles.

"Do you have one in mind?" Making another bold move, James drapes an arm around his daughter's shoulder. Some part of him thinks she might pull away, but he's pleasantly surprised when she doesn't.

"Not yet."

"What about Spot or something cute?" He suggests.

Emma scoffs. "_Really_? If I did, I'd never hear the end of it."

"Or, you know, you can name her Harley or Spike. Whatever floats your boat."

"Harley. I kinda like it. I mean, a horse can't be that much different than a motorcycle."

"What that August guy rides around on?" James can feel Emma's excitement.

"I know what your name is." She leans over the stall door and smiles down at the horse. "How do you like Harley?" The foal whinnies her response. James himself smiles, watching the interaction. His birthday can't get any better than this, he thinks.

**MORE TO COME!**


	4. Chapter 4

**I'M SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO UPDATE. WRITER'S BLOCK, THEN LIFE GOT IN THE WAY, THEN MORE WRITER'S BLOCK. ALSO, THIS IS THE LAST CHAPTER. I ALREADY HAVE A CHARMING FAMILY POST-CURSE FIC GOING THAT DEMANDS ATTENTION, AND AT THE TIME I HAD INTENDED FOR THIS TO BE A ONE-SHOT. SORRY IF I DISAPPOINTED ANYONE.**

**DON'T OWN IT.**

Emma drives home from the stables with James in the passenger seat. He's gripping onto the door handle for dear life as his daughter careens down the street. At first, he thought her reckless driving was due to being angry, but the giddy grin on her face –and so utterly un-Emma-like he doesn't quite believe it's there– proves otherwise.

"Turn, turn, turn! Way too close, Emma, way too close." He shouts in a panic-stricken voice.

"Oh. Sorry, I didn't realize I was going so fast." She laughs self-consciously, sparing her father a tiny glance. "I guess it's a good thing I'm sheriff. Can't give a ticket to myself."

"Who taught you to drive?" James asks casually, and notices the way the blonde's grip on the steering wheel tightens.

"Um… me." She says after a long pause.

"Do you always drive like this?"

"God, no. I'm just…" She stops, considering the consequences of revealing the truth. "I'm excited." Then she quickly adds, almost involuntarily like the words are flying out of her mouth before she can stop them, "To tell Henry about the horses." She sighs, head falling back against the headrest. "Sorry, I… I didn't mean to add that last part. I'm excited to be with my _family_." Emma has to force every word out.

"I am, too." James smiles warmly. "Emma, you're speeding again."

"Oh." She immediately takes her foot off the gas and sighs for the second time.

"I'm guessing you get road rage?"

"Yeah. A bit." They round a corner and pull into the parking lot of the apartment complex.

"Hey. We made it back in one piece. That's always good." He jokes, getting out of the passenger seat and closing the door.

"I may have a tendency to go fast, but I'm a good driver. I _am_ the sheriff, after all." Emma quips.

"I never said you weren't." James opens the main door for his daughter.

"Thanks." She does the same to him when they reach the apartment.

"We're back!" He calls, hanging his coat on the coat hanger.

"How'd she do?" Henry asks, bounding across the room to greet his mother and grandfather.

"I didn't ride." The blonde replies, shrugging out of her jacket.

"Why not?"

"Well, um…" Emma isn't sure if she should mention her horse. The last thing she wants to do is bring up painful memories for her mother, since the teacher is in such a good mood. She takes a seat at the kitchen table next to Henry. "My horse is a little small right now." She offers a hesitant smile that grows when Snow returns it, reaching out and squeezing her hand from across the table.

"What did you name her?" The brunette asks quietly, half in the moment, half lost in memories from long ago.

"Harley." Emma answers.

"That's… not a horse's name, but not surprising." Snow comments.

"Grandma, can we have cake now?"

"Yes–" The blonde starts to answer for her mother because she's starving and cake sounds really good. But Snow doesn't let her finish.

"How about some lunch first?" Both Emma and Henry let out a comical groan which Snow and James smirk at.

"Depends on what it is." The blonde negotiates with a semi-fake seriousness that she only reserves for talking to Mr. Gold or Regina (when they're not bickering like a married couple).

"Oh?" Snow raises an eyebrow, her tone sounding like a mother whose daughter just told her she's doing something against the mother's wishes. This makes Emma squirm uncomfortably, from both the mere tone (no one's ever used it on her, even if they had plenty reason to) and because her mother is acting like, well, her mother.

"What did you make?" James asks, hoping to settle this thing before it goes to blows. Not that he thinks it will, not at all. He hears the teasing tone in his wife's (his _real_ wife) voice, sees it in her eyes. He may not know his daughter very well, but luckily for him, she takes after her mother. He knows she's playing around, at least about the 'maybe eating lunch before cake' thing. Whether or not she'll end up having pizza delivered because she either doesn't like what Snow made (he doubts Snow would make something she doesn't like, though) or she simply doesn't feel like eating it is a whole other story.

"Guess." The teacher smiles.

"Macaroni and cheese, my favorite." He says.

"Mhm." Snow settles for squeezing his hand, since anything more will get Henry and Emma squawking.

"That works." The blonde announces. Henry nods vigorously in agreement.

"I'm glad I didn't inconvenience you." Snow says sarcastically with an eye roll to boot as she pushes herself out of the chair to take the macaroni out of the oven.

"She's kidding." James says.

"I spent 2 months with her in uh, the enchanted forest. Believe me, I know."

"And you liked getting to spend quality time with me!" The brunette calls from the kitchen, then places the pan of macaroni on the table.

"Yeah, if quality time means getting hunted by ogres, a crazy sociopathic and psychopathic bitch, Captain Asshole, and a giant." Emma shoots back. "But yeah, other than that, spending time with you was nice." Snow drops the forks she had been bringing over to the table. "You still aren't used to my colorful language?" Emma is genuinely confused.

"You just said spending time with me is nice." The brunette's face takes on a rosy shade as she picks up the fallen silverware, embarrassed by her carelessness.

"Did you want me to say it was horrible?"

"No, no! I just, it was unexpected, that's all." Snow says. "Now, who's hungry."

"Me." All three of her companions exclaims.

"It smells delicious." James says.

"It tastes even better." Henry declares.

"You let him taste it before me!?" He says with mock hurt. Back in the Enchanted Forest, she _always_ let him taste the macaroni before anyone else.

"He's ten, and today, you're thirty. You can deal with it." Snow says.

"What!?" Emma drenches them with the soda that flows from her mouth. "My _father_ is only two years older than me? Oh, what the Hell…"

"Ugh." Henry wipes the sweet drink off his face with a napkin.

"Sorry about that." The blonde smiles sheepishly. "It's just… my parents are two years older than me."

"Well, technically…" Snow's face pales to a ghostly white. "Technically I'm… _58_. Well, I guess that's one good thing about the curse. I didn't age!"

"I'm 58, too. That's okay, let's celebrate my thirtieth today. And thirty first next year. So on and so forth." James says.

"I want some cake, so let's dig in." Emma announces. "Maybe I should get the silverware this time." She smiles, getting up and walking to the drawer. She pulls out the necessary eating utensils and hands them out. Snow dishes the macaroni out, to James first so he'll quit his wining.

"This is so good!" He says around a mouthful. "God, I've missed this. Kathryn only made it from the box."

"Kraft isn't that bad." Emma comments.

"That's because that's all you knew how to make." Snow quips.

"Point taken." The blonde's eyes bulge when she tastes it. "How come you never made this when I was, or you were my… are we… never mind. As Mary Margaret."

"Emma, I am still your roommate and _friend_, even though I'm your mother." She answers her daughter's unvoiced question, shooting the blonde a knowing smile. "I didn't even know I knew how to make it."

"Of _course _Regina would erase the memory of how to make macaroni and cheese." James exclaims, as if it's a felony. It at least earns him a smile from the other three, which is enough for him.

"Emma, even _I_ can make mac and cheese out of a box, and I'm ten. This wasn't that hard to make." Henry says with a classical Henry smirk on his face.

"I thought I tasted some Henry in it." James ruffles the boy's hair.

"What do I taste like?" Henry asks, completely unaware that his word choice was not so great. While Snow and James' laughter is somehow gracious despite some snorting, Emma nearly chokes on the macaroni she'd been shoveling in. "What's so funny?"

"Oh, Kid…" The blonde manages to gasp. "You'll figure it out someday."

"On _that_ note, I'm glad the macaroni tastes good." The brunette says. The rest of lunch went by quietly, except for the clanking of forks and the occasional glass being picked up and put down. It wasn't an uncomfortable or awkward silence at all; if anything, it was contentedness.

"I'm done!" Henry announces. "So I deserve cake."

"I second that." Emma says. James turns his puppy dog eyes on his wife.

"Then it's decided. Emma, want to help me bring the cake out?"

"Me? No! That's a bad idea. I'll drop it." The blonde looks panicked.

"Alright. Do you think you can handle lighting the candles?" Snow smiles.

"Yeah." Emma nods in the affirmative.

"Can I help?" Henry asks.

"How about you bring the dishes to the sink and pass out new forks." Snow suggests.

"Okay." It's obvious the kid isn't too happy with his job, and perhaps if it was Regina who had asked before the curse was broken and he was still living with her, he would have protested and sulked, but he doesn't; he does what is asked without complaint.

"It's a big help, Henry. Thank you." Snow ruffles his hair as they make their way to the kitchen. Henry carefully balances the plates and used silverware. The load he's carrying lands in the sink with a clatter. The trio reemerges, and Henry bounds over to his grandfather. Snow carries the cake, moving slowly so as not to drop it. Emma twirls the lighter in her hand.

"You should be careful with that." James points out. "I don't want you to get hurt."

"It has a child safety lock thingy." The blonde rolls her eyes. "But… I'll be more careful in the future." She adds quietly. _I'm trying to change_, she reminds herself. Snow puts down the cake in the middle of the table, and James finally gets a good look at it. It's vanilla with chocolate frosting.

"That's colorful." He comments.

"I decorated it!" Henry says proudly. While the cake is certainly colorful with all the sprinkles, they are more or less dumped wherever the boy thought appropriate, and therefore not the most aesthetically pleasing.

"You did a good job." James remarks.

"Yeah, Kid, you did." Emma agrees, reaching over the table to ruffle his hair.

"Although, you can barely see the sprinkles with all the candles. Are there really thirty here, Snow?"

"Yes." The brunette smiles. "I'm a teacher; I do believe I can count."

"And they're red."

"You're favorite color."

"Today really _is_ all about me." James beams.

"Honey, _every day_ is about you." Snow says. "Want to light them up, Emma?"

"I'd love to. Blow 'em out fast so you don't get wax on the cake, but don't spit on it cause I'll be mad." The blonde lights each of the thirty candles.

"I won't." He promises.

"Make a wish!" Henry says. James closes his eyes and in one long exhale, all of the flames on the candles flicker out. The smoke swirls about, and for a few moments that's all anyone can smell.

"I'll cut it." Emma offers hesitantly.

"Great." Snow breathes with a smile, handing her daughter a knife. After the Sheriff hands out huge slices of cake to everyone, the brunette sighs. "You only wanted to cut it to make sure you got a big piece, didn't you?"

"No." Emma answers honestly. "I wanted to help, and I think I did a good job. Big pieces are a bonus." She winks at Henry.

"You know what? This is the best birthday ever. Thank you guys for making it so perfect." James says. For the first time ever, Emma feels as if she's finally home.

**THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING AND STICKING WITH ME THROUGH ALL OF THIS. IF YOU HAVE TIME, PLEASE VOTE IN THE POLL I MADE! (IT'S OUAT RELATED).**


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